


Requiem

by hoper_dreamer



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Also ace!leon but I didn't put much of that in here, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Asexual Character, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Flashbacks, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, M/M, Nightmares, Percival's backstory is so sad, Post 5X13, Post-Canon, but happy ending!, gaius is adorable, perwaine are my babies, seriously this is an angst fest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-11
Updated: 2015-05-11
Packaged: 2018-03-30 02:20:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3919210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hoper_dreamer/pseuds/hoper_dreamer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>People say grief gets easier as time goes on. That eventually you'll be able to move on from whomever you lost. That all the pain just fades away until you're left with only happy memories of the one you lost. </p>
<p>Either they had it easy, or they were lying through their teeth. </p>
<p>-</p>
<p>Losing people is a situation Percival is far too familiar with. First his family, then his friends, now his lover... Percival isn't sure how much more he can take. </p>
<p>-</p>
<p>Supporting people has always seemed to be Leon's job. The one who's strong when others can't be. Leon knows he can't break. But it's getting more and more difficult to stay together. </p>
<p>-</p>
<p>Post 5x13, The Diamond of the Day; obviously, angst.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Percival

The first few nights are the hardest. 

Percival has nightmares. 

_I failed._

_No, you haven't._

_He relives the horrors of the final battles time after time in his dreams._

_You know what you said you'd do if you ever found Morgana?_

That wicked glint in his eyes. 

_Well, we've got a good idea where she'll be heading._

_Mostly, Gwaine's death._

_Gwaine! Gwaine!_

Percival wakes up, screaming Gwaine's name, his hand fisting the sheet where Gwaine usually lay beside him. His hands come up empty, of course. 

 

No one speaks of Gwaine around him. Just like they try not to mention Arthur around Gwen (although that's almost unavoidable) or Merlin around Gaius. Percival walks into a room to see Leon and Gwen or Gaius and Leon or any other goddamn person in Camelot with their heads bowed together. The whispers stop when Percival enters. Someone accidentally mentions Gwaine. A slip of the tongue. A moment of amnesia, thinking the jokester knight would come striding down the hall any moment. Their heads whip around to gaze fearfully at Percival. He doesn't react. 

Percival considers leaving Camelot. _Wouldn't that just be easier?_ He tries to tell himself. He could leave all the memories behind. 

_I never knew you cared._

_Well, I had a dream about eating a cheese that tasted like apple pie._

Of course he doesn't leave. How could he? 

 

After a week, Arthur is presumed dead. Merlin never showed up, either. Gwen and Gaius had a strange hope Merlin was still alive. Percival wasn't sure how they thought so. 

Gwen is crowned queen then. She'll be a good one, Percival knows. He'll be loyal to her, of course, just as he was to Arthur. "Long live the queen!" everyone shouts. 

" _Long live the king!"_ Percival remembers yelling four years before.  

"Long live the queen," Percival says quietly. _Let's hope it works this time._

 

It's strange, just him and Leon. They had always had a bit of solidarity: they were the quiet ones, the more serious ones. Different than Gwaine and Elyan and Lancelot and Mordred. There are more silences with only the two of them. Neither wants to speak of the ones they've lost, and so they mostly stick to the here-and-now. It doesn't help that Percival is quieter than ever. He grows reclusive as time goes on, wanting to be alone most times. Because being with all his friends only reminds him of the ones lost. Losing people is a situation Percival is far too familiar with. 

Leon starts spending more time with Gwen, and Percival still has nightmares. They don't begin as nightmares, really. They are with Gwaine, after all. It begins with a memory. Different each time. All happy. 

_Gwaine teases him, his eyes twinkling, that cocky smile curling up his face._

_Percival is pushed up against a wall, Gwaine gasping into his mouth, his hands tugging at Gwaine's hair._

_Lying in bed, his arms around Gwaine. He rolls over sleepily to look at Percival. "Morning," Gwaine says. Percival kisses him on the nose._

And then, the dream shifts. 

_The cave they are stuck in is dank. Full of nooks and crannies, and full of Morgana's soldiers. Apprehension clutches at Percival's heart. Gwaine hasn't returned in hours, not since he insisted on going after what he saw in the darkness. Arthur and Merlin appear out of nowhere to rescue them, but Percival isn't content until he sees Gwaine again._

_Gwaine is pinned against a wall, a Saxon's sword at his throat. Percival disarms the man quickly, but it doesn't alleviate the fear Percival felt with Gwaine at death's door._

_Gwaine's screams of pain fill his head. Gwaine is trapped, Percival is trapped, and there's nothing Percival can do. Another scream, this one drawn out and inhuman. No! Percival thinks. He pulls at the ropes round his arms, pulls and pulls, fueled by the sound of Gwaine's pain. He has to save him. Can't leave him. Can't lose him._

And then: 

_I failed._

_No you haven't._

 

Gaius notices Percival drawing away. The man is a physician; he can tell when someone is in pain, even if it's not physical. He insists on inviting Percival for tea, every day. 

He doesn't make Percival speak. He keeps topics to mundane matters: the trending gossip, the weather, where their next patrol was heading. It's good, Percival knows. He needs to have some sort of social interaction, even if it's with an old physician. It gets his mind off of Gwaine and the others for a while. 

And then, two months after it all, Gaius changes it. 

"Percival, Gwaine wouldn't like you to be like this." 

"Like what?" Percival asks, purposefully stirring his tea as to not look Gaius in the eye. 

"Percival," Gaius says in a chiding voice.

Percival meets Gaius's eyes. "What do you mean?" he says quietly. 

"I knew Gwaine," Gaius says. "He loved life... He loved you. He would never want you to mourn him this way. He would want to live your life to the fullest, even though he is gone." 

"What's the point?" Percival retorts hotly. He stands up. "What's the point of me living? Everyone who is important to me dies!" He sits back on the chair, his head in his hands. _"Everyone."_

_Little rosey-cheeked Alice with a laugh like a bell. Always wanting Percival to pick her up on his shoulders so she can touch the branches of the trees._

_Thomas. Always wanting a fight, never wanting to work. Pretending a stick was a blade and a tree one of Cenred's men._

_Mother. Always tired. Always with a smile on her life-worn face._

_Da, with his twinkling eyes and stoic mouth. Always telling Percival to be strong. Work hard._

_Alice, trapped in the arms of a soldier, his sword on her neck. She's calling for Percival, and he can't help her, not pinned with a sword against his own throat. He hears her scream, sees the blade run over her neck, sees the blood pour out, the red the same bright shade as the flowers Percival would braid in her hair._

_Thomas. Running right out at first sign of soldiers, armed with a long-dull sword. He's cut down before Percival can stop him._

_Mother, getting stabbed in the gut and insisting she was fine. They run, but with no medical supplies there's nothing Percival can do. She bleeds out against a tree trunk, with Percival's hand in her own._

_Da. Dying right after little Alice was born. Leaving teenage Percival to provide for two kids. "You've got to be strong, Percival. For them."_

 

Everything suddenly comes out then. The tears he had held in for years. He sobs into Gaius's shoulder, letting the much smaller man hold him for a few minutes. He had only ever told Gwaine about his family, keeping it a vague tragedy to the other knights. 

The tears he cried now weren't just for Gwaine. They are a requiem for Mother and Da, Alice and Thomas, Lancelot and Elyan and Mordred, Arthur and Merlin... And Gwaine. His love. All of his lost family and friends and lovers. 

They had all had so many memories together, in good times and bad. No matter what he tries, he won't ever be able to escape them. 

The question occurring to Percival now is this: does he want to? He has been trying his hardest to forget all of them... Maybe it was time to go the opposite way. Remembering. 

They wouldn't want him to simply forget. Especially not Gwaine. 

_"I need you," Gwaine says huskily._

_Percival pulls him closer. They're on Percival's bed, their legs entwined.  "What do you mean?"_

_"I need you to keep me in that thick skull of yours," Gwaine says with a smile, running his hand over Percival's head. "Forever."_

_Percival chuckles. "Forever? I thought you said I had a thick skull. Don't think folk with thick skulls can remember things forever."_

_"I think you could at least give it a try, love," Gwaine replies. "Especially for someone important as me."_

_Percival takes him in his arms. "Cocky now, are you?"_

_"Just sure you'll remember me," Gwaine says._

_Percival kisses him on the forehead. "You're right, you bastard."_

 

Percival lets go of Gaius. "Thank you," he says softly. He smiles. "Really, Gaius. Thank you." 

Percival had promised Gwaine then. He wouldn't go back on it now. It was time to move on. Properly. 

 


	2. Leon

"Long live the queen!" Leon proclaims. 

"Long live the queen! Long live the queen!" everyone echoes. 

Leon remembers the last time they had chanted Gwen queen of Camelot. Gwen and Arthur were both so happy... It had seemed like the start of a new era: the reign of King Arthur, so different from his father, and Queen Guinevere, whose kindness knew no bounds. They would make Camelot a better kingdom, repair all the harm Uther had done. They were a source of hope for all. 

And then only three years later they are back to the start, burning a cape and a sword on a pyre, with no body to burn of the once and future king. Crowning a new queen with tears shining in her eyes. 

Gwen will do well... She was a good queen with Arthur. She has some natural diplomacy and learned even more ruling skills with Arthur by her side. She is strong, but sometimes she will falter. Everyone does. 

Leon is there to hold her up. That has always seemed to be be his job... The one who's strong when others aren't. The supporter. 

 

Arthur wasn't always a skilled fighter, although he doesn't like to admit it. He likes - _liked_ \-  people to believe he was born with a warrior's might and a sword in his hand. Leon knows the truth. When Arthur was first training, he was as lousy as any page had been before him. Leon took him under his wing and showed him which end of the sword was the stabbing end. Leon was only a fourteen year old squire, but he knew his way around a sword. He sparred with the young prince whenever he had the chance, and Arthur learned well. 

Leon became one of Arthur's closest friends, despite their five year age difference. Arthur looked up to him and trusted him to tell him straight what he was doing wrong without all the frills and diplomatic dancing about the issue as most did around the prince. Leon admired Arthur's kindness. One would never guess the prince was the son of King Uther, whose name made even the strongest of all fear his mercilessness. Arthur had a softness Uther had lost if he'd ever had it. 

When Morgana came to live at the castle after Gorlois died, Arthur was the first to comfort her. Uther, Arthur, and the knights greeted the small girl at the stairs to the castle. Uther stayed up at the top, waiting for Morgana to go to him so he could keep up his appearance as king. Arthur, on the other hand, raced down the stairs and put his arm around Morgana's thin shoulders. He greeted his long-time friend enthusiastically, leading her up the stairs to the stoic Uther. 

After that day, Morgana and Arthur were inseparable. They adventured around the castle, playing petty tricks on the staff and the knights. Leon remembers a time when he put on his helmet only to feel a wet _plop_ on his head - a toad. Laughter echoed through the halls in those days. The prince and the ward were a duo fit for shanties sung around fires. 

Sometimes, the duo were required to have an older chaperone to mind them - and by mind them, meaning make sure they didn't kill anyone. The only qualification they had was to keep their secrets. They always chose Leon. Arthur sometimes pretended he was king already. He would make Leon and Morgana kneel down before his as his "subjects." He'd stand atop tables and give rousing "speeches" to the two of them, mainly speaking of his vow that "desserts would be free to all corners of the land" and that "vegetables would be banned." But occasionally, Arthur would delve into what he really wanted. "Imagine if all the kingdoms were united!" he'd say enthusiastically. "That will happen when I'm king. There won't be any wars, and everyone will be equal! The people will have hope." He put his hands on his hips and stood up straighter. "They'll all look to me for guidance, and I'll be able to give it." 

Arthur shone like the stars when he spoke of the future. But sometimes stars fall. Leon couldn't remember how many times he helped up an angry and red-faced Arthur when he didn't execute a move right in front of Uther. Or gave the prince a much needed hug when he did something fantastic for his age that Uther didn't acknowledge because it wasn't good enough for a prince. Or wiped the tears from his cheeks when his father yelled at him for a mistake. Leon held Arthur up. He caught that falling star and tried to fix him back in the sky of his high hopes. 

It worked, for a time. But as Arthur grew older, his star began to burn out. He became an arrogant prince with no care for those who fall before him. He pushed away Morgana and Leon, choosing to run with the rougher knights. Uther's influence came over him too much. He finally molded his son into what he thought a prince - and a king - should be. Someone who struck fear in the hearts of those who would deign to cross him. 

A bully. 

It broke Leon's heart. The little prince so full of ideas had morphed into a blustering ruler with hardly a shred of empathy left.

And then Merlin came. Merlin, he of the big ears and a mouth that just wouldn't close, even around the prince. Somehow, Merlin managed to take Arthur down a peg, and Leon slowly saw the hopeful prince he once knew resurfacing. Arthur began to love and care and empathize. Suddenly the little prince became king, and his nearly-forgotten dreams were on the brink of coming true. 

And now Arthur is gone again. With no chance of return. 

 

It's difficult, now, for Leon to support Gwen. His grief is clawing under his skin like a mad animal trying to get out. But he can't show it. He can't break. If he breaks, he can't help anyone. If he can't help, then what's the point of him? 

It breaks over him at the strangest times. The sorrow. He's in the armory. Remembers Lancelot's swordsmanship and nobility. In the forest. Remembers Elyan's quiet companionship on their journeys. He's in the bloody stables. Remembers the time he found Gwaine passed out drunk in a pile of hay, clinging to an irritated horse's leg. He sees Gaius. Remembers teasing Merlin. Remembers Mordred's bravery. Remembers Morgana. 

Morgana broke Leon's heart as well. All those years they had been friends had left a mark on Leon... to see her betray Arthur, to betray him, was something difficult for him to understand. But as time went on, he began to see. 

This wasn't the Morgana he had known and loved. That Morgana was gone, twisted deep inside the darkness of this new Morgana. The Morgana warped by hatred and spite and fueled only by revenge had consumed the old Morgana, trapping her inside. 

Deep down, Leon had hoped that the old Morgana would escape. She'd finally see that Arthur had done nothing to her, that Camelot was not hers to rule. That Morgana would return. The real Morgana.

But now Morgana is gone. With no chance of return. 

 

Time passes slowly. Leon tries reaching out to Percival, but the man's heart was broken. Gwaine had died in his arms, only seconds after Percival found him again; Leon can tell he blames himself for the death of his lover. Leon cannot entirely empathize with him; he had never even had a lover to lose, nor does he ever intend on having one. But Leon has his losses, terrible ones.  It's exhausting being around him. After a while, he can't be around him anymore. He makes the grief Leon feels inside himself seem all the more palpable. 

Leon prefers to keep it in, only showing it alone in his quarters when no one can see him curled on his bed, shoulders shaking with silent sobs. 

Because if he were to break, what could he do? 

 

Life goes on, eventually. Percival begins to be his old self again after a few months. Gwen is beginning to accept her rule as queen. She makes her first decree after three months: Magic would no longer be outlawed in the kingdom of Camelot. Druids and sorcerers could practice their craft in peace. Leon believes it due to the sorcerer's help at Camlann. If that man had not arrived, who knows how many more would have died? 

Merlin still hasn't returned. Gaius still hopes for his return. He tells them as such whenever anyone mentions the gawky servant. It's almost like Gaius is trying to convince himself that what he hopes will come true. 

But then again, Leon thinks, Gaius seems to be full of surprises lately. Two days after Gwen issued the decree that magic would be legal, Gaius summons Leon, Percival, and Gwen to his chambers. The old physician shuffles around the room for a few minutes, purposefully not saying anything of consequence. Something is eating at him. 

"Gaius," Gwen asks. "What are we doing here? And I know it's not just to drink your tea and sit on your chairs," she says, gesturing at the cup in her hands. 

"Ah, yes," Gaius says. He rubs his hands over the other. He clears his throat. "I would like to tell you something.... Something I've had to keep secret from you, and I regret that," he says, choosing his words carefully. He takes a long pause. 

"What is it, Gaius?" Leon prompts. The man was obviously nervous about whatever this was. 

Gaius sighs. "I am a sorcerer," he confesses. "I have magic." Everyone stares at him, unreactive. "It's nothing exceptional," Gaius continues hurriedly. "Nothing like that sorcerer fellow at Camlann or... Morgana, heaven forbid." He clears his throat again. "But I can get around." 

"You were practicing magic around Uther?" Percival says with surprise. 

Gaius nods. 

"Wow," Percival remarks. 

Something occurs to Leon. "That sorcerer on the mountain at Camlann," he starts, "Did you know him?" he asks Gaius. 

Gaius gives a strangely soft smile. "Yes, I did." 

"Who is he?" Percival prompts. 

Gaius stands up straighter and says wryly. "I will not divulge that information. It is he who must tell you." 

Full of surprises, but still keeping his secrets. 

 

 

People say grief gets easier as time goes on. That eventually you'll be able to move on from whomever you lost. That all the pain just fades away until you're left with only happy memories of the one you lost. 

Either they had it easy, or they were lying through their teeth. 

It's been eight months since Camlann, and if anything, it has only grown worse for Leon. He has nightmares now. Flashbacks of the countless battles he's fought, watching his friends being cut down on his left and right while he somehow survives. Twisted futures where Gwen is shot by an assassin or Percival stabbed and bleeding out before him. His dead friends coming back to life in a warped form, their skin pale and peeling, coming to drag Leon down to the earth with them. 

He can't sleep for fear of the nightmares. It's starting to affect his abilities. Once, he's in a meeting of the Round Table, listening to Gwen discussing a peace treaty, when suddenly he is shaken awake by Percival, a worried look on his face. Leon had fallen asleep in the middle of it all. He blurts out a lie about going to the tavern last night and not getting back till late. They seem to warily accept it, but Gwen has Percival escort Leon back to his rooms to "get some rest." 

Of course he doesn't sleep. The demons are no better in the light. 

After time, he breaks down and goes to Gaius. He's heard of the physician's potions for a dreamless sleep... Perhaps it would chase away the nightmares. Leon spins a lie about the potion being for Gwen, hoping the physician wouldn't every think to ask the queen about it. He listens to Gaius's instructions for taking it, half his mind gone from exhaustion; and when he leaves he trudges back to his quarters and takes a massive swig. He's out before his head hits the pillow. It's the first quiet slumber he's had in weeks. 

 

It's been quiet for months now. Really, too quiet for Camelot, Leon thinks. It was only a matter of time before something happened. Nine months after Arthur's death, countless people are still angry about Gwen's legalizing magic. They all knew it would come back to bite them soon. They didn't expect it to go as it did. 

Leon hears the twang of the bowstring. He knows who it is going for. Not even thinking, he lunges in front of Gwen, feeling a thunk as the crossbow bolt slams in the fleshy part of his upper chest. Pain blossoms, and Leon gives a shriek of agony. A mad ruckus ensues, with several knights running the queen out of the room and several others racing up to the balcony where the shooter stood. 

He feels a prodding on his arm. "Percival, help me turn him over," he hears Gaius order. His pain rockets as they move him from his side. He screams. 

Percival curses.  

"Give me something to halt the bleeding!" Gaius commands. 

Leon's vision grows fuzzy on the edges. "Gwen..." he gasps. "Gwen. Is she - okay?" 

"She got away," Percival reassures. He looks down on Leon and smiles. "You're going to be just fine," he says, but Leon can see the fear in his eyes as his vision grows dark. 

Nightmares have no mercy. They don't care if you've got the flu, or a busted leg, or if you're passed out after getting a crossbow bolt in the chest. They come, and they are vicious. 

Leon stands on a battlefield. The ground-up dirt is littered with bodies like so much rubbish. A ravaged Camelot flag ripples in the wind. 

Arthur's dead before him, his eyes gazing blankly at the sky. Swallowing a sob, he closes his king's eyes and moves on. Mordred, his neck broken. He does the same to the young boy's gaping eyes and moves on. He nearly trips over Lancelot, his body covered by an enemy soldier and a layer of dirt. His eyes are open too. He closes them and moves on. Gwaine is next, his mouth open in a silent scream. Percival lays beside him, a spear through his chest. He shuts their eyes robotically and moves on. Elyan lays a few feet past them, his sword still in his hand as another is stuck in his gut. Closes his eyes. Gwen. Her top ripped open, barely allowing for modesty, a bloom of red on her forehead. He shuts his queen's eyes and moves on. Merlin and Gaius lay beside each other, blood still seeping from corresponding wounds on their hearts. 

Morgana, sitting on a makeshift throne, her eyes shut, probably in reflex to the knife now stuck in her head. 

No, Leon thinks. He can't speak, his tongue feels thick. No. This can't be real. It can't be it can't be it can't be - he releases a guttural scream.  

"Leon!" he hears Gaius say, a world away. It can't be Gaius, he thinks frantically. Gaius is dead behind me. 

"Leon!" shouts Percival. He's dead too, Leon thinks. All of them. And he's all alone. 

He feels a slap across the face and wakes with a gasp. Gaius and Percival stare down at him, their faces twisted with worry. 

Leon breathes raggedly. "Wha-where am I?" he asks. The nightmare still feels all-too real. 

"You're in my chambers, Leon," Gaius says. His face is still concerned. "You've been out for hours." 

He feels a sudden pain in his chest. His upper chest and shoulder are covered in a swath of white bandages. He groans. "Right. I-I took the arrow for Gwen." His mind whirls, trying to make sense of it all. "Gwen. Where is she?" He tries to sit up, grunting in pain; if Gwen's missing, Leon's got to find her. 

Percival gently pushes him back down. "Gwen's safe." 

"Leon?" He hears Gwen say. 

"He's awake, Gwen," Gaius calls. 

Gwen rushes into the room, her skirts flashing around her legs. She looks exhausted. She kneels next to Leon's pallet and smiles at him. "Thank God you're all right." Her face grows cloudy, and she gently slaps him on his arm. "I can't believe you did that. I am not worth your life." 

"I lived," Leon points out. 

"Yes, but one more inch lower and you wouldn't have," Gaius chides. "You were lucky, and even luckier that you were able to sleep through the pain." 

"Leon..." Percival says hesitantly. "You were saying things in your sleep." He clears his throat. "Screaming, actually." 

His mind races, trying to come up with a convincing lie. He can't tell him about the nightmares. Can't break. Maybe just play dumb? "What do you mean?" Leon asks, trying to put on his best confused face. 

"I believe you were having a nightmare," Gaius says shortly. Before Leon can say anything, he continues. "Don't you lie to me, Leon. I have seen many of those in my time, and there is no way you don't remember it." 

Gaius's glassy eyes staring up at him. 

"I don't know what you're talking about," Leon snaps. 

"I do," Percival says with surprising sharpness. "I had nightmares after... after Camlann, and they felt just like that. Let me guess," he says softly, placing his hand over Leon's. "You're reliving everything." 

Percival's limp arm thrown over Gwaine's corpse.

"Sort of," Leon murmurs. "Worse." 

"Go on," Gwen urges kindly. "Speaking very often helps." 

Gwen's bodice ripped, blood seeping out a gaping wound. 

"I can't," Leon croaks, his voice cracking. "I can't." 

Leon standing alone. He couldn't save them. He was weak. 

"Let it out," Gwen says, touching his arm. 

"NO!" he yells, ripping his arms out of their grips. 

A tense silence. 

Leon's chest rises up and down rapidly. He's suddenly breathing hard. His hand trembles. "I can't let it out," he murmurs. 

Another silence. 

"Why?" Gwen asks, so quietly. 

"Let me alone," Leon hears himself say. He's about to break. And he can't in front of them. Once they're out of here, he can break. But not yet. 

"If you think we will leave you, you are wrong, Leon," Gaius says. "It's not safe for you."

Leon clutches the sides of his cot. His nails dig into the thin cloth. He hears a rip. "Fine," he says shakily. "Do you want to know what's wrong?" 

Everyone nods. They look strangely nervous. 

"Do you know what my father used to say when he put me to bed at night?" Leon gives a dry laugh. "'Be strong, son. Stronger than everyone. Don't falter. Don't show fear. Be a rock, son. Don't cry. Don't break.'" His fingers dig in more. More small rips echo in the silent room. "I've been strong for everyone," Leon continues, his voice tense. "I'm Leon the reliable. The one everyone trusts. The knight to go to when you need solid help." Leon takes a deep breath. "I've been supporting everyone for my entire life, and now I can't even stop myself from breaking."

Silence. 

Leon won't meet the eyes of his friends. "D-do you know what it feels like, breaking? It's like... It's like when you're fighting, and your enemy slides his blade along yours and they're locked at the hilt. You - you can feel your arms trembling, you can see their blade inching towards your head, and you can't stop it. Then finally, when your limbs are deadweight and your courage gone, you falter. And the blade drives home." Leon pauses. "And you break." 

He finally meets their eyes. They're filled with all the pain Leon is feeling inside, and he can't handle it. 

"Do you know what that feels like?" Leon shouts. He lurches off his cot to his feet, feeling the stitches in his chest pull unpleasantly. "You can't know!" he says, kicking the cot in anger. His toe throbs. He's breaking, he's finally breaking, the cracks in him are bleeding through and all he wants to do it break things so he doesn't have to feel the pain in his chest and his foot and his mind. His vision blurs on the edges, but he can see well enough to slide nearly everything off of Gaius's table. The intstruments and bottles clatter to the floor with a satisfying crash. One sharp edge slips over his palm, making a red-hot gash. Leon cries out, and clutches at his hand. 

"Leon!" he hears Gwen faintly say. 

Then he feels warm, gentle arms around him. He collapses to the dust-strewn ground, and the tears finally fall. It's not a pretty cry. Not like a gentle tear falling from a lover's eye as the bards sang of. This is an ugly cry, one that tears through his very soul. He sobs gut wrenching sobs, ones that seem to leech straight from his marrow. It _hurts_. 

Through his haze, he feels another pair of much larger arms encircle him along with Gwen's, and then a pair of them with paper thin skin. He feels tears fall on the back of his neck from the large man and the Queen, and even a few from the old sorcerer. 

It's liberating, Leon thinks. Baring himself before them. Letting loose his pain in a flash of color, only for it to be absorbed by their arms. And then. Them trusting him enough to give him their own pain. 

Eventually, the tears fade away, and they are left in a warm huddle on the glass-strewn floor of Gaius's chambers.

"I don't know about you," Leon rasps. "But I could do for a drink." 

And so they drink. Percival fetches a bottle of Gwaine's ale from a stash in their chambers. "I was saving it," Percival says, his thumb running over the mottled glass of the bottle. "I don't know what for." The big knight grins at them softly. "I guess this is a good of an occasion as any." Gwen sends a servant for a bottle of wine, as she knew Gaius and she preferred wine to whiskey. 

They drink, probably more than is likely respectable for the queen, her two head knights, and the court physician; but, they can't find it in themselves to care. 

Leon feels pleasantly buzzed when the first toast is proposed. "To Arthur," Gwen says quietly, lifting her cup of wine.  "To Arthur," they all echo. 

"To Gwaine," Percival says. 

"Pass me the bottle," Gwen says to Percival. "I think if Gwaine saw me toasting him wine when there's liquor available, he'd never forgive me," she chuckles. Percival passes the bottle of whiskey to her, and as they all echo "To Gwaine," she takes a swig. She coughs as she passes it back. "Burns," she comments.

"For Merlin," Gaius murmurs, the somber mood restored. 

"For Merlin," they toast. 

They continue, toasting each person coming to their mind they have lost: Elyan, Lancelot... Percival hazards a "to Mordred," and after only a few seconds they respond. The boy was one of them, despite his turn, and they still mourned him. 

After a pause, Leon takes a risk. If anyone needs a toast, it is her. "To Morgana." 

"To Morgana." Leon is surprised at how quickly they respond. No one chooses to say anything more; undoubtedly, she was still a sore subject. 

After time, they move onto other subjects. "Do you remember the time Gwaine and Arthur had a drinking competition?" Percival tells. 

Gwen laughs. "Arthur was sure he'd win..." 

"And Gwaine drank him under the table," Leon supplies. 

"Literally, if I remember correctly," Gaius quips. "I believe I had to check out a bruise on his head." 

Everyone laughs.

Gwen starts on a tale of when Elyan was a child and played little tricks on Gwen constantly. Gaius supplies a story of when Merlin first arrived and somehow managed to knock over Gaius's entire supply cupboard. Leon tells of the time that Arthur was ten and he and Morgana sent a horse racing through the halls of the citadel during an important dinner. 

Leon feels a strange warm feeling pooling in his belly, and he doesn't think it is from the alcohol. Telling all these stories helps them remember all the good times. Leon can almost forget the nightmares he suffered. Gwen and Percival and Gaius are before him, all whole and healthy, if perhaps a bit tipsy. Some of his friends were gone, but some remained. And now it was time for them to finally mourn. For them to finally hear a requiem. This, Leon supposes, is their form of that. Getting terribly drunk and laughing their arses off. 

By the time they finish, the sun is peeking through the windows. They'd drunk till morning, although they eventually switched to water once the alcohol ran out. 

Leon stumbles out of the room and heads roughly in the direction of his chambers. He can have a day off, today, he thinks. He deserves it. All of them do. 

He feels Percival's heavy hand on his neck. "This was good," Percival says with a surprisingly clear voice. 

Leon smiles softly. "It was, wasn't it?" Leon feel happier than he has in months. It's like they dark cloud over his head is finally dissipating into thin, manageable wisps. The darkness isn't entirely gone, but it seems the dawn is driving it away. 

Percival grins, and then lumbers down the hall to his quarters.

Leon eventually finds his way back, and never has his bed looked more inviting. 

Leon doesn't dream. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, please leave a comment or kudos! I hope you enjoyed :)


End file.
